


Definitely Not a Date

by DellaBella



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Conversations, Dinner, Enemies to Friends, Friendship, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Human Michael, M/M, Post-Canon, Restaurants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22641712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DellaBella/pseuds/DellaBella
Summary: A year after Michael begins his life on Earth, Shawn shows up to give him an update on how things are going in the Good Place. The two go out for dinner, but it's definitely not a date. (Could be read as slash or gen. I ship them, but there's nothing really slashy in this fic unless you want to read into it.)
Relationships: Michael & Shawn (The Good Place), Michael/Shawn (The Good Place)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 159





	Definitely Not a Date

Michael had spent the better part of the afternoon pacing nervously in his apartment. He had a dinner date tonight- well, perhaps _date_ wasn’t the right word. In fact, Shawn had made it absolutely clear that this was definitely _not a date_.

Apparently when Michael had left the Good Place to become an actual living, breathing human, the lack of leadership hadn’t gone over well. Rather than one of the original Good Place architects stepping up to take back the reins, they had decided to appoint Shawn in his place. Their supposed logic in this decision was that if Shawn had been Michael’s boss then he could easily run things in Michael’s absence.

It was more than a little concerning that the leadership of the Good Place was completely fine with handing everything over to demons. He would have to die at some point, and he hoped the afterlife wasn’t a total dumpster fire by then.

Shawn had shown up at Michael’s door a few days ago to explain the whole situation to him, and also to ask him if they could have dinner tonight to discuss things further. Michael thought it seemed like a thinly veiled excuse to spend time together, but he had agreed to it anyway. Now he was regretting it as the clock ticked away, and he realized he had less than an hour before he was supposed to be meeting his former boss at an Italian restaurant downtown.

He opened his closet and sifted through his nicer suits. “What exactly does one wear on a not-a-date with one’s ex-boss _slash_ mentor _slash_ enemy turned friend?” Michael asked out loud to absolutely no one. He missed the time when Janet or Eleanor would have been around to provide some insight into such a conundrum. Even one of Jason’s bizarre yet sometimes strangely perceptive comments would have been appreciated right about now.

He finally decided on the navy blue suit and began sifting through his collection of ties. Should he go with a standard necktie or a bowtie? He wondered why he was bothering with all of this effort, when most likely Shawn would just show up in the same exact clothes he’d been wearing for the last several thousand bearamies. 

Michael sighed when he was finally dressed and he looked himself over in the mirror. Couldn’t the Judge have let him start his life as a human at age twenty? Heck, even mid-forties wouldn’t have been so bad. Not that he didn’t look great for a man of his “age” but still…

Honestly though, he had no reason to be concerned about his looks. He’d looked exactly the same for millions of years now, ever since the tech guys in the Bad Place figured out how to stuff a six thousand foot tall fire squid into a human suit. Demons didn’t care about, or even understand, human standards of attractiveness anyway. Shawn was a high ranking demon who could have requisitioned literally any human body he wanted, and he purposefully chose to look like a forty-five year old upper management associate at a life insurance company.

Once he was dressed, and reasonably calm, Michael drove downtown to meet Shawn. It didn’t take long to find the demon, who had arrived in a bright red Ferrari. Quite a few humans in the parking lot were admiring the car. Stirring up a little envy was a properly demonic thing to do.

Shawn had not, as Michael had predicted, dressed like he always did. He was wearing a dark charcoal grey suit with a blood red silk tie and expensive black Italian leather shoes. He looked almost like what a human might picture a demon would look like if he were showing up on earth to take someone to dinner.

Michael felt his breath catch, his human body reacting rather strangely to the sight of his former enemy standing before him. He felt a rush of blood to his face, making him feel hot. It was almost as if Shawn were trying to impress him, though that is the last thing Shawn would ever care about doing. Maybe he was just doing it to mess with Michael. Get under his skin.

Yes, that seemed far more likely.

“Shawn,” Michael said with a little nod, once he’d taken a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Michael.” His former boss looked him over, clearly as unimpressed as ever. “You look like someone who should be handing out programs at a Baptist church in rural Nebraska.”

“Um, thanks?”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

Michael chuckled nervously. Shawn always had been intimidating, though it was so much more intense of a feeling now that Michael was human and Shawn was still a powerful immortal being. Despite being frightening, it was also a little intriguing. 

They followed the hostess inside, who sat them at a cozy booth in the corner. It was a charming little Italian restaurant, and the tables were decorated with candles and red and white flowers. It was quite romantic, even if it were unintentional. As Michael looked around the dining room he noticed most tables were occupied by couples, and after searching his mind it dawned on him. Today was Valentine’s Day.

“Look at all these losers,” Shawn said, his voice dripping with disgust. “Oooh, it’s February fourteenth, time to take my girlfriend out to dinner. Pathetic.”

“You don’t have something against romance do you?” Michael teased.

“This isn’t romance,” Shawn said coldly. “This is a bunch of weak willed humans doing exactly what their capitalist overlords want them to do. Face it, most of these dim-witted dandruff farms couldn’t come up with an original romantic idea if you held a gun to their head. You’ve always had more imagination than a hundred of these putrid primates combined. Why would you want to give all that up to become one of them?”

“Um.” Michael would have liked to have a more coherent answer than that, but his brain was struggling to work through everything Shawn just dropped on him. His disdain for humans was as strong as ever, but his respect for Michael was something new. Or at least something he didn’t bother to outright hide anymore.

“See? Look at you. You’ve only been here a year and your brain has already turned to mush.”

Shawn’s bizarre mishmash of insults and compliments really did feel like it was turning his brain to mush. Processing emotions with this complicated network of neurons was a struggle at times. Michael was glad for the distraction when the waiter came to take their orders.

A few minutes later the waiter returned with the appetizer Shawn had ordered, setting it on the table between them. Michael looked over it, frowning. Of course that’s what Shawn would order.

“What’s the matter, Michael? You don’t like calamari?” Shawn asked with an edge of menace to his voice, an evil glint in his icy blue eyes.

“Uh, calamari… isn’t that… um…” Michael swallowed nervously.

“Squid?” Shawn answered as he picked up one of the deep fried rings.

“Yes,” Michael said slowly, starting to feel just a little queasy.

“Most human food is pretty terrible, but this isn’t really so bad.” Shawn bit into it slowly, never breaking eye contact with the former demon seated across from him. “Go ahead, try it.”

“I’d rather not.”

Shawn laughed, the sort of spiteful, evil laugh that could only come from an actual demon. The sound sent a chill down Michael’s now human spine. How terrifying it must have been for all the billions of people Shawn had tortured through the ages. All of the people _he_ had tortured…

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a pearl clutching old church lady. This food probably isn’t even related to you. Maybe a distant cousin at best.” He took another bite.

Michael just shook his head. “Shawn, you really still are quite a bastard deep down in your cold, demonic heart, aren’t you?”

A look of absolute relief passed over Shawn’s generally inexpressive face. “I certainly hope so. Imagine how much it’d suck if I became all soft, like _you._ ”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that, buddy.”

Shawn didn’t say anything, but Michael got the impression that was exactly what he had wanted to hear. The rest of the calamari sat untouched until the waiter returned with their dinners. “Could you box that for me?” Shawn asked. “Deep fried food is _so_ much better when you microwave it after it’s been sitting in a box in the fridge for a week.”

The waiter's expression was incredulous, but they seemed to shrug it off as they scraped the mostly uneaten appetizer into a styrofoam takeout container.

Michael felt a little better now that it was at least out of sight. The chicken cacciatore sitting in front of him now looked delicious, and his stomach was reminding him that he had been so nervous about this dinner that he had skipped lunch. He took a bite and hummed in appreciation. “Oh, this is just great! How’s your dinner?”

“It’s acceptable. Probably the best I could get in a place like this, anyway.” Shawn had ordered an extra well done rib-eye that he was currently drowning in ketchup. Michael had to grin at how Shawn hadn’t given up all of his demonic traits now that he was in charge of the Good Place. Speaking of which…

“How’s the new job going?”

Shawn raised an eyebrow as he sawed into his leathery steak. “As well as can be expected, I suppose. I mean, I’m a demon who’s been put in charge of the Good Place because the last demon in charge decided he’d rather retire to Arizona to learn guitar and play golf.”

“Golf is pretty terrible,” Michael remarked. “That’s one of our inventions, isn’t it?”

“I think most sports are,” Shawn replied with a shrug. “Anyway, I guess things are going fine. It’s not as fun designing neighborhoods without bears, or bees, or giant lava monsters. Imagine designing a neighborhood that’s all about making people _better_.” 

“But I _did_ imagine it,” Michael replied with a confused expression. “That’s why you’re doing it.”

“Ugh,” Shawn’s lips twisted into a disgruntled sneer. “I was being hypothetical, you overly sentimental inspirational quote poster.”

Michael couldn’t help but smile at Shawn’s insult. If he were being honest with himself, he missed it. And since he was human now being honest was pretty easy. Well, easier than it had been as a demon. “But I thought you wanted to talk to me about work. That’s why you wanted to go out to dinner, right?”

“Um, right,” Shawn said, frowning as he looked down at his plate.

“It’s not going all that well, huh?” Michael said sympathetically.

“It’s going fine. Just a little boring, that’s all.”

“Well, things can change quickly in the afterlife. People die all the time. You never know who’s going to show up next.”

“You’re right,” Shawn said, looking up from his plate and staring at Michael in a way that made him feel very uncomfortable. “People _do_ die all the time.”

Michael squirmed in his seat and cleared his throat nervously. “I just got here. I don’t plan on leaving yet.”

“But you’ll die eventually. And _when_ you die, your file is going straight to _me_. You think I’m going to let some peppy airheaded American Idol reject like Vicky design your neighborhood?” Shawn gave him a look that Michael assumed was meant to be threatening, but instead looked strangely… possessive.

“Oh,” Michael replied, feeling far more excited than he should about the fact that the most deviously sadistic demon was going to be personally responsible for him in the afterlife. “I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.”

Shawn raised his eyebrow incredulously. “You realize this is my chance to pay you back for all the hell you’ve put me through?”

“Yeah? Sounds like it’ll be fun. Well, for you anyway.”

“Yes, fun…” Shawn said a little breathlessly, his face suddenly alight with anticipation. He was more excited than Michael had seen him in a very long time.

Michael smiled. That was exactly what Shawn had needed to hear. The demon had been worried he was doomed to be bored to tears for the rest of eternity as the chief architect of the Good Place. He needed a rival, a challenge. He had thought he lost Michael, but their relationship was far from over. It might have changed, but they still had an entire afterlife to spend together.

Several moments passed, and Michael noticed Shawn staring at him, a sort of hunger in his gaze. “Don’t think you’ll just be waltzing into the Good Place like some kind of saint! You’re going to have to _earn_ it! Even more than all the other dead humans, because you have literally billions of years of being a demon to make up for!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream that you’d go easy on me.”

“Good. Because I won’t.” Shawn paused, for effect, then gave Michael one of his patented icy stares. “Your neighborhood is going to be my opus. The best of the best. And by that I mean the absolute worst. Penis-bees might be off the table now, but you’re not the only one who knows how to get inside of someone’s head. Millions of years from now little snot-nosed demon children will be learning about my work in school.”

“I’m honored that I’ll be your masterpiece.”

They stared at each other silently from across the table. There was so much more that _could_ be said, but Michael had learned that sometimes it was best not to speak. Just to be quiet and appreciate the moment. This was a relationship that had evolved over billions of years, and no words could really do it justice. So Michael contented himself to sit in contemplative silence.

Which only lasted a few meaningful seconds before excited screaming erupted across the restaurant. Both Michael and Shawn looked over to see a young man on one knee presenting his gushing date with a diamond ring, as the other patrons cheered him on.

“A public proposal? On Valentine’s Day?” Shawn made a gagging noise. “That’s gonna set that loser back a good ten thousand points.” He laughed wickedly. “Humans, what a bunch of absolute morons.”

“I think it’s rather sweet, actually.”

“And that’s gonna set you back a few points as well.”

“Oh, darn,” Michael muttered. “Well, I’m volunteering at an animal adoption event tomorrow, so that should make up for it. Helping puppies is definitely worth some points.”

“Puppies are only good for shooting out of cannons.”

“Shawn…” Michael scolded him in a chastising tone.

“What? I’m still a demon, let me enjoy things.”

The commotion in the restaurant died down, and the waiter returned with their check. Michael paid, after all, he had a decent amount of money in his bank account thanks to Janet. And if it were up to Shawn, they’d do a dine and dash. Shawn might be in charge of the Good Place now, but there were some demonic traits that were hard to break.

They strolled out to the parking lot, where Shawn’s red Ferrari was parked next to Michael’s much more reasonable green Subaru Forester. 

“You’re car’s so boring, Michael. Don’t you wish you still had a Janet around to conjure up whatever you want?”

“Sometimes. But there’d be no fun in life if I could just get whatever I wanted. You of all people should know that something is more satisfying if you have to work for it.”

“Yeah, but it’s also great to just get whatever I want. Why not have both?”

“You might have a point there,” Michael conceded.

“Well, I need to get back before the entire Good Place goes down in flames. Those morons can’t make it more than five minutes without someone telling them what to do. Besides, I have a neighborhood to plan.” Shawn held out his hand as if he intended for Michael to shake it, but Michael stepped forward and pulled the demon into a hug instead.

“Gross, stop it!” Shawn hissed, squirming in Michael’s embrace, glancing around the parking lot as if someone were going to catch him in the middle of committing a crime.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic. This is what humans do.”

“ _I’m_ not a human!” Shawn squirmed some more, as if he were trying to break free of Michael’s hold. “You’re all warm and squishy and full of fluid. It’s weird, and not the good kind of weird.”

Michael sighed but kept holding him close. “Can’t you just go along with it?”

“Ugh, fine.” Shawn reluctantly wrapped his arms around Michael’s back, even going so far as to lean into it a little, though Michael tried not to read anything into that. “But this is super stupid and I hate it, just for the record.”

“Duly noted,” Michael responded. He held him a moment longer, giving him just a little bit of a squeeze before finally letting go and stepping back. 

“Well that was terrible. Thanks for ruining my day,” Shawn said, though his voice was just a little lacking in its usual abrasive tone. He hopped into his supernaturally summoned sports car and gave Michael a wave as he gunned the engine. “See you in hell, loser!”

Michael smiled and waved back. “Take it sleazy, buddy.”

**Author's Note:**

> So really, I just thought this up this morning because I was watching Lidia Bastianich cook calamari on her PBS show and I thought "I wonder how Michael would feel about calamari?" (Being a giant fire squid and all.) Then I imagined Shawn ordering it just to mess with Michael, because that's exactly the sort of thing he would do. Throw in the fact that it's almost Valentine's day, and a fic was born. I love these two so much. I have such a thing for secretly soft demons.


End file.
